


son can you play me a memory

by Ford_Ye_Fiji



Category: Castle
Genre: AU of how Kevin joined the 12th precinct, Alternate Universe, Background Relationships, Bartender AU, Brotp, Case Fic, Fenton O'Connell mentions, Gen, I've only seen up to the sixth or seventh episode of season six, Jenny O'Malley mentioned, No Slash, No Spoilers Please, Ryan is a dad, bartender Kevin ryan, bit of angst, sort of, with jenny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 13:29:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11601621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ford_Ye_Fiji/pseuds/Ford_Ye_Fiji
Summary: Kevin Ryan is a bartender.Esposito is the cop who always comes in for a drink or two too many.They bond.Title is a lyric from Billy Joel's 'Piano Man.'





	son can you play me a memory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parkrstark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkrstark/gifts).



> This work is for detective_rysposito, because what better way of letting them know you're active in the castle fandom again than gifting them a work?

"Hey, look man, do you need someone to take you home?"

Esposito hardly registered the words through the haze of alcohol clouding his mind and fogging up his vision, blurring everything into smears of color. He had long since passed the stage of carefree blissful emptiness and he'd entered the stage of drinking where his problems crashed down and enveloped him in misery.

A strong long fingered hand grasped his shoulder and shook gently, disturbing him from where he slumped against the bar, "Hey, dude. Do you need me to call you a taxi?"

Esposito pushed the hand away sluggishly, "L... Leave me 'lone."

There was a heavy sigh before the voice came back, "It's about closing time, man. Come on, clear up."

Esposito finally lifted his head and found himself face to face with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. The owner of the eyes spoke again, "Do you need someone to take you home? You really shouldn't go alone this wasted."

"Wha...?"

The man sighed and turned back to the bar behind him, putting away the crystal glass he'd cleaned and dried with the damp towel on his arm. The bartender turned back around, "Look, every night you come here and get yourself langered. Every time you've had someone to pick you up before closing." Esposito could hear the implied 'your ride isn't here now...?' When he didn't answer the unspoken question, the man began again, "You can't go home alone like this."

Esposito stumbled to his feet clumsily taking his wallet out and dumping a wad of cash on the counter, "Watch me." He fired back sluggishly from around a weighty tongue that refused to cooperate, "Keep... Keep the change, bro."

"Hey, wait!"

The blond blue eyed bartender huffed and tossed the towel on the counter, following the smashed Hispanic man, "Look, why don't you just crash here? I've got a cot in the office, don't go home like this."

Esposito glared at the concerned man who had planted himself firmly between Esposito and the strangely fuzzy doors out of the bar. He took a step forward. The short Irishman didn't flinch as he stood with his arms crossed, but Javier could see him swallowing nervously, "I don' need to listen to you... You're wearing a sweater vest." The bartender, wearing the blue and gray checked sweater vest, raised an eyebrow and remained planted in front of the door.

Esposito wilted, knowing that the barkeeper was right and he really shouldn't be going home with enough alcohol in him to down an elephant, "M'fine."

The wiry bartender knew he'd got him, "Here, I've got just the place for you to lay down."

When Esposito had safely passed out on the cot in the bartender's office, only after vomiting twice, the kind man pulled out a cell and dialed a number. He shortly began talking to the other on the phone, "Yeah, I'm real sorry Jenny. It's just... That officer I told you about was here again. He didn't have anyone to take him home and I couldn't just let him leave." He paused face softening, "What would I do without you? Yeah. I love you too, Jen."

He hung up before turning back to the unconscious man, smile falling away. He picked up the man's wallet, "Now, let's see here. I'd like to get your name Mr... Detective Esposito." He sighed as he observed the sleeping form, "You're going to need a lot of aspirin in the morning."

Kevin Ryan sighed again and moved over to his desk to do his paperwork.

It was going to be another long night.

* * *

 

Esposito woke to a pounding headache and no memory of the night before. Ike had probably picked him up... Except... Except that he couldn't. Esposito winced. There was no more Ike. Just a bloodstained empty car, an equally empty desk, and a whole lot of distrust from his old precinct the 54th.

The detective shook himself, where was he then?

He looked around, eyes squinted around the thundering throbbing in his temples. Normally he would down an unhealthy amount of aspirin, take a quick drink to get the edge off, and then continue about his day. That wasn't the safest thing to do, at all, but he didn't really care.

Esposito stood up shakily, taking a moment to breathe before he lurched to his feet. The light was dim as it had been turned down extremely low, but it was still blinding for someone with a hangover. It seemed to pierce right through his closed eyelids into his brain, sharpening the spikes of his hangover into barbs.

An office. That's where he was.

He chanced opening his eyes more and he winced. It was then that Esposito noticed the lean blond man slumped in sleep over the desk, paperwork spread across the dark scratched wood.

He looked vaguely familiar but... Not quite...

It hit him. The bartender of the cop bar usually frequented by those of the 12th precinct. Like all the other times, Esposito managed to fool himself with the idea that he had fully intended to take just one drink but that had escalated quickly. Ike had been like a brother and to find out that he was dead.... A friendly drink had turned into one, then two, and then suddenly he was drunk out of his mind and still ordering more.

In the beginning, Esposito had thought of the Irish barkeep as a bit pretentious. He always dressed formally, a vest or a (horrible) tie over a carefully color coordinated button down. He'd stopped thinking that after he got to listening to the man. He was observant, kind, and a good detective. The bartender also gave good advice when people asked for it when spilling sob stories to him. Most of it was sound and well thought out. He was clearly the listening type. Bartenders usually were.

He squinted in the light as the sleeping man woke, pushing himself up off the desk and rubbing his eyes. He paused mid stretch when he noticed Esposito looking lost in the middle of the room. He sighed and stood up, pulling out a bottle of medicine, "Hey man, how about some aspirin?"

Javier nodded.

The bartender trotted up the stairs, Esposito slowly following him.

He eased himself onto the bar stool wincing at every thump that aggravated his head. He flinched when the bartender slid the glass of water over. A few red pills followed and Esposito knocked them back, wrinkling his forehead with pain.

The bartender leaned on the counter, shirt sleeves rolled up, as he fixated Esposito with a sharp clear gaze, "Wanna tell me your name?"

He huffed, putting a hand to his head as he spoke wearily, "Detective Javier Esposito."

The barkeep smiled, straight white teeth forming an almost annoyingly perfect smile. He held out a hand, then retracted it when Javier glared at it, "See there we are! Kevin Ryan."

"Look, bro, Ryan, what do you want? I just came here for a drink."

Ryan crossed his arms, "Buddy, it's one thing to go out on the lash, it's another to end up being taken home every night, locked out of his tree like a monkey who lost his keys."

Esposito glared, "Bro, did you just call me a _monkey_?"

Ryan paused, "That might not have been the wisest choice of words...?"

"You think?"

"But my point still stands, I may just be the bartender and I probably should respect your life choices, but it isn't good for you- or anybody- to keep on like this."

"If I stop will you quit talking to me?"

Ryan paused, thought, then nodded, "Sure, Detective Esposito." He watched the detective grimace with pain before adding helpfully, "By the way, honeymilk is great for a hangover."

"Honeymilk, bro? Can you get any weirder?"

Ryan shrugged before he took the glass of water, "It's good for a lot of things, digestion, skin... You should try it some time." Esposito scoffed as Ryan raised his voice ever so slightly, "Now go on home and get some rest."

"Bro. If you even try yelling at me, I _will_ strangle you."

Ryan laughed as Esposito stalked out, hand on his head all the way.

* * *

 

Ryan was true to his word. He said nothing, only waved companionably when he saw Javier but that was just about it. Sometimes a drink would end up in front of him and Esposito knew he didn't order it, but he knew who it was from, and he'd drink it anyway. He never got falling down drunk again though. Slightly buzzed yes, perhaps tipsy (he would walk home- he wasn't stupid) but he'd always be capable of making it back to his apartment.

Life continued on and his new partner at the 12th, Katherine Beckett was odd. It took a lot to get used to after his and Ike's seamless companionship, almost like he'd lost a limb. Unit cohesion was important, and he knew that despite the initial wariness, they'd get better. Especially because they agreed on everything, and were able to think the same way. Which might become a problem when they needed to step back and get a different perspective. However, Beckett was strong and smart and they worked together well, they might be amazing one day. Captain Montgomery had even decided to add another cop to their team. Esposito wasn't too sure about that. He'd rather have somebody on his side who he could trust, and one who he _knew_ wasn't incompetent.

Especially on this horrible case they'd just picked up.

Daniel Fleming, twenty-three, throat slit and his body dumped in a basement-turned-meth lab. His wife and two _children_ had been found a day later, in their apartment, killed the same way- after they'd questioned her. If that wasn't bad enough, they hadn't even managed to track down the knife, a long triangular single edged blade. It could've been a small sword or dagger for all they knew. There were no fibers, no hairs, no prints at the place where the body was dumped- there wasn't a clue as to where the actual crime scene was. In fact, Beckett said she was getting the sickening feeling that this was a mob hit. Professional, clean, no hints of evidence. The wife they'd questioned, before she and her kids had been killed, said Daniel hadn't been into anything suspicious. He had no previous records, his coworkers reported nothing off, he was well liked... The only lead they had was the oddness of the murder weapon- but no one appeared to know what it was.

Esposito's eyes flickered to the bar where the Irish man smiled at the young blonde woman with the wedding ring on her finger. He kissed her in greeting and the wee bundle in her arms. Kevin returned to his station giving his wife a wave. Esposito shook his head and returned to nursing his drink.

He couldn't stop thinking about the short repertoire that had felt so natural that night. He knew enough that the man had been a cop... Esposito snorted, what was he thinking?

He still waited for closing.

The bartender moved over, slowly cleaning the glasses of amber liquid as he went. Finally Esposito huffed, "Look Ryan, I want to talk to you, stop stalling."

Esposito knew he was a good judge of character when Kevin immediately flipped the towel over his arm and slid over to the other man, practically vibrating with childish excitement, "Yes?"

"You used to be a detective, right, man? In narcotics?"

Ryan's brows furrowed, "Yes...?"

"Why'd you stop?"

The blond man straightened, "There was an accident, I... I bit a bullet because my partner didn't have my back. I just never ended up coming back. Then I got a job and ended up here. Why?"

Esposito sighed, "I want to know if you... I know this is gonna sound stupid bro, but would you know anything about a Daniel Fleming from your stint in narcotics?"

Ryan thought for a moment before he shook his head, "Sorry, man. Never heard of him. Why?"

Esposito sighed slowly before pulling out his phone, "He was found murdered in a meth lab by some sort of sword-dagger. We can't place it anywhere."

"And you're asking me for help?"

"I need somebody who doesn't think like me, bro. My partner Beckett is too much alike. So, tell me. Seen anything like this before? Heard anything?" He slid over the phone with a picture of the vic at the scene.

Ryan's brows furrowed, "You said long dagger or sword, right?"

"Yeah."

Ryan drew in a breath and slid the phone back over, "You didn't say anything about the throat being cut."

Javier leaned forward, "Why? Do you know something about the murder weapon?"

He looked him in the eye, "Better. I know who your killer is."

* * *

 

Beckett crossed her arms, "How does he know who the killer is, Espo?"

Javier looked up from the file folder he'd been flipping through. He raised an eyebrow, put the folder on the desk, and took a deep breath, "Undercover work."

Beckett scoffed at Ryan sitting innocently in the break room sipping a cup of their bland tasteless coffee, "That man was an undercover cop?"

Esposito did see how that was a little hard to believe. In fact, he hadn't been able to really see it himself. Slim, young, overly eager, talked about _honeymilk_ of all things, and dressed in a suit everyday? That man went undercover for the Irish mob? In Staten Island? To find drugs? But when Esposito had expressed his doubt, the wiry man had grinned disconcertingly and held out a hand before snarling with suddenly flinty eyes as he pulled Javier forward roughly, "My name is Fenton O'Connell, Detective, and ah don't appreciate you coppers crowding mah space."

It was strange to see him blink and suddenly Kevin Ryan was back with a disturbingly cheerful grin and a bout of laughter at Javier's deer in the headlights look.

He didn't have any doubts now. That kid was a good actor, "Trust me, Beckett, he went undercover for narcotics. And he knows who our perp is. Says the suspect is one associated with the mob, but she's not a hit man. More of a person who's open to personal favors, and someone who likes holding grudges. With Ryan's help I was able to dig up a bit more about our vic too."

Beckett raised an eyebrow, "What? How did that happen?"

Esposito handed over a paper-stuffed file, "Confidentiality agreement, his name was erased from the records, but as it turns out, Daniel Fleming's name is Ian Archer. He helped out the force by testifying and bought our suspect six years in prison for drug charges among other things."

Beckett sighed, "That's all circumstantial evidence."

Javier grinned, "Not if we can pick up our suspect, Jana Dever, who is known for killing by slitting throats with an Irish scian. An ancient Irish, single edged dagger."

Beckett's mouth opened with realization before she grinned and patted him on the shoulder with the manila file, "Good call bringing him in, Espo."

Esposito smirked as Beckett strode off with her heels clacking. Ryan waved cheerily before Beckett entered the break room with a smile and the file in her hands.

* * *

 

Jana Dever was convicted of murder when they found her scian with traces of Daniel/Ian's blood on the blade. The confession Esposito intimidated out of her, and the fact that she'd tried to kill the two NYPD officers when they came to pick her up, sealed her fate. She'd tracked Daniel Fleming down and murdered him in her own apartment, which was the one stupid thing she'd done. Even if she'd scrubbed it with bleach, they'd found splatters clinging in obscure places. He liked to think that in the end, dumping the body in the meth lab was a good thing, because Esposito probably never would've thought to ask Ryan about the case without the drug connection.

She was sentenced to life imprisonment without parole, and the case was closed.

Beckett and Esposito both showed up at the bar that night with thanks and offers of friendship which Ryan gladly returned.

* * *

 

A few months later and Esposito is throughly convinced. He picks a night and stays till closing, determined to get his question out in the open. When Ryan smiles and takes his glass at the end of the night, the ex military detective asks thoughtfully, "You ever think about rejoining the force?"

Ryan wrinkled his eyebrows in puzzlement, "Sometimes, why?"

Esposito took a deep breath and thought about it for a minute more. The former detective's honest blue gaze made him blurt it out, "How do you feel about being my partner?"

The barkeep laughed, "What?"

Esposito huffed, "I'm serious, bro."

Ryan froze, "Well, I'll be kicked and booted, you're not having me on. Why on earth would you want me, a washed up cop, to be your partner?"

"Bro, you're like twenty-two, at the most."

"Twenty-eight!"

"Sure. Look, I think we'd work well together."

"You're only saying that because I'm willing to drive you home after you get wasted."

Esposito snorted, "Look, what you did with the Dever case was really helpful and the insight you provided was integral in helping us catch the killer. We could use you at the 12th precinct, bro. You don't need to keep bartending the rest of your life."

Ryan eyed him.

"...And I'm getting a new partner. Captain Montgomery wants to make Beckett and I a three man team. I'd rather have you than anybody else."

Ryan's eyes crinkled as he grinned and teased good naturedly, "Oh, well, I see, Esposito. You're just looking for someone you can jerk around." He held up a hand at Esposito's amused interjection, "But I accept, if Jenny approves."

Esposito smiled, "Alright, check with your lady- but bro," he eyed Ryan, "I am never getting married."

The blond bartender snorted, "Nice try, Detective Esposito. I saw you with that ME, Lanie."

"Dude, you know you can call me Javier, right?"

* * *

 

Just one year later, Detective Katherine Beckett, Detective Javier Esposito, and Detective Kevin Ryan solve their first case together. A few years after that, when Ryan is used to calling Esposito 'Javi' and Esposito finally dares to taste honeymilk, a man named Richard Castle walks in their front door.

The trio becomes four and they are New York's finest. 


End file.
